


Almost Housebroken

by orphan_account



Category: Pound Puppies (Cartoon)
Genre: Farting, Mature Fetish Themes, NSFW, Scat, Stuffing, lucky is a dumb puppy who lives to eat, not for kids!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Cookie rejects him, Lucky starts putting on a little weight. Then a little more. Then a LOT more. Suddenly, the Shelter 17 team realizes their shitting blimp of an alpha is more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Cookie (Pound Puppies)/Lucky (Pound Puppies)
Kudos: 7





	Almost Housebroken

Lucky had once been a proud dog. A leader, someone you could count on. He kept his head held high. More importantly, he kept in his farts. Lucky’s emotional nature was something he’d kept private for most of his life. He let few things get to him. Cookie’s rejection was one of the few things he let crack his hard exterior. Afterwards, he started to snack between missions a little more frequently. He put on maybe ten pounds. A few months went by; he’d put on another twenty, and was a noticeably heavy dog. Then came forty; his health was a concern to McLeish. Now, Lucky remained in the tunnels, accompanying the team on missions through a headset - he was too ashamed to be seen by anyone else. He no longer had a weight estimate, but the room the pups had tunneled out for him barely contained him. He stayed perched on his enormous, pillowy ass, his massive gut spilling across the floor. The team had to admit that, despite his disgusting new form, they were lost without him - they’d tried running missions without his help on the headset, and it had been a failure. So they continued to cater to him as he pleased, knowing that if they didn’t bring him what he wanted, he’d simply refuse to assist. “Squirt, I’m- _ **BOOUUUUUURRRRPPP**_ \- almost due for _URRPP_ another round of kibble,” Lucky’s slightly muffled voice hollered. Squirt’s eyes narrowed, and his oversized ears flattened somewhat. He didn’t like being viewed as barely more than a doggie maid. “You got it, boss!” Was his only response. A muffled _**FFFFFRRRNNNT**_ was Lucky’s reply.

Squirt gagged as soon as he entered Lucky’s chamber, dragging a bag of kibble larger than himself. The stench of dog farts was unbearable; he could see the splatter of an explosive shart staining the wall. Lucky looked nothing but pleased, giving a happy belch at the sight of his next meal. Squirt grunted, dragging himself up Lucky’s flab to begin pouring kibble into his leader’s awaiting mouth. He could barely keep off the smug smile he so desperately wanted to give him. Lucky had no idea that Squirt had laced the kibble with laxatives gifted from a friend on the doggie black market. Sure, the team would have to deal with the mess - but it would be worth it for the stress and shame it would cause Lucky. Squirt hoped, despite the unlikelihood, that it would be a wake-up-call.

Lucky didn’t bother to thank him when he was finished; instead, he scrunched up his muzzle and let rip a long, bassy fart, one leg lifted slightly. “Fuck,” he grumbled in pleasure, a dazed smile on his snout. Squirt gave him a look of disgust before he clambered off. It was only a matter of time.

Squirt might have underestimated just how much he’d given Lucky. And how backed up Lucky was. Normally, Lucky’s shit simply splattered into a dip the dogs had dug behind him; they shoved him aside to clean it, though that had become difficult with how large he had grown. But now that he thought about it, it had been close to two weeks since he could recall anyone dealing with the gag-worthy task.

_**FLAAAAARRRPP!** _

_**BRRRNNNNT!** _

_**BRRLLLSSSHHHHHH!** _

Loud farts began to echo from Lucky’s chamber. The dogs went to carefully peer in, careful to stay out of sight.   
  


“Oh, fuck- I can’t - _**BRAAAAUUPP**_ \- stop,” Lucky whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut as a painful _**VVRRRRNNNT**_ escaped his doggie ass. His gaping asshole started to release near-nonstop wind; the growls from his stomach did nothing but grow louder. Slowly but surely, his booming farts grew wetter and sloppier, his massive cheeks slapping together with each expulsion.

_BLLRRRRRFFFFT_

_**BLAAAAAAARRRRRRRRSSHHHNNNTT** _

_BRAAAAAAUUUU **SPLORSH**_

The last fart turned into a full-on powerful shart, shit splattering out from Lucky’s wobbling cheeks. He could do nothing but burp, opening his mouth to cry for help but just belching nonstop instead. A massive log began to crackle from his stretched hole; it grew wider and girthier - one foot, then two, then three in diameter - until it was positively slamming out of his ass, sloppy farts escaping with each shitrope that slapped against the wall. Soon, Lucky was being forced forward by the massive pile of dung he’d piled against the back wall. His shits grew gassier and softer; they began to slide out easier, and he took on a relieved expression. The stench emanating from the room was horrendous; the dogs could barely stand it, and the humans outside Shelter 17 were fleeing. Lucky panted, taking on a dazed but relieved look as the shit finally stopped; thousands of pounds of dog poop crammed between him and the wall. He let out a last _brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrfffffttttttt_ before simply accepting his fate and closing his eyes to go to sleep.

**GOURGLE**

His eyes snapped back open as a wave of painful cramps rippled through him. It wasn’t over - in fact, it was just beginning.

_**SPRAAAAAAAAAAAAABBLLLBLBLBLRSH** _

A nonstop wave of rancid doggie diarrhea began to pour out of Lucky’s sore ass, spraying against the wall and coating the previous pile of scat. He whimpered, gritting his teeth in complete helplessness.

_**BRRRRSHSHSHHRRNNTT** _

_**SPBLAAAAAAART** _

_**BRAAAAAAABBLLLRRRSSHHH** _

The sharts accompanying each push left Lucky’s backside and the floor coated in liquid shit. The team had cleared out at this point; the spectacle was simply too disgusting. Lucky grunted, pushing out several more gallons before a few hard balls of shit, each the size of Lucky’s former self, escaped and thudded to the ground. Lucky leaned back, cocked his fat leg, and sharted long and hard; and then, his personal hell was over.

 _I’m hungry,_ was the first coherent thought Lucky faced afterwards.


End file.
